


Sinking

by gigglebug



Series: Dragon Quest Builders 2 [5]
Category: Dragon Quest Builders (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Canon, also only one kiss, but it's a good one, not a ton anyway, nudity is mentioned but hardly relevant, relationship-centric but not romantically so, they're in love but they're best friends y'know?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26990125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglebug/pseuds/gigglebug
Summary: Crea knows how to help Malroth with his nightmares, but she is woefully unprepared when it comes to her own. It catches her by surprise, washing her overboard and bringing her back to the three days and three nights they spent on a boat bound for Skelkatraz.This time, she's certain she'll drown.
Relationships: Female Builder/Malroth (Dragon Quest Builders 2)
Series: Dragon Quest Builders 2 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539892
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Sinking

**Author's Note:**

> this is a bit different than I usually write (present tense! super flowery and metaphorical descriptions!) but I'm pleased with how it came out. I was playing through the game again and I had forgotten they were on a boat for that long on the way to Skelkatraz! So of course my brain went, well how about some angst for the occasion? And here we are.

Rocking, listing, to and fro across the water. Waves crashing against wood, foaming like liquid shaken in a bottle. Creaking protests of timber, sounding as though they threaten to give way to the merciless embrace of the ocean. It is freezing. The cool air nips at bare flesh, sending goosebumps and shivers as fierce as the uneven rocking outside the boat. And then a pair of gleaming red eyes from the darkness, seeming to devour with their gaze alone as the water floods in with the intent to drown…

Suddenly there are frantic gasps and a scream, followed by a body hitting the floor. Crea fully awakens in a sobbing mess on the floor by her bed, her insides still wobbling from the restlessness of waves inside her dreams. She barely even has a chance to orient herself in the darkness before she feels Malroth's hand on her shoulder, and not even a second longer before she feels his powerful, all-encompassing embrace. She sobs at his warmth, tears leaking from her eyes squeezed tightly closed.

"Crea! What's wrong? What happened?" Malroth's voice is tinged with rare fear, masked with general concern and bewilderment. 

She doesn't tell him. She can't, yet. Not when her eyes and mouth are blocked with her emotions. 

Instead, she cries. Hard. 

She is half clothed from the muggy summer night on the Isle, tucked away in their canyon home that they share together. Malroth himself isn't clothed at all, which is understandable given how the heat always sticks to him like honey. Crea only wishes she has something to squeeze or grasp while she tries to hug him back, crying like mad, be it clothing or something else. But she finally manages to settle her hands in his hair, gripping it like a lifeline that would soothe the turbulent waves that threaten to drown her. If her pulling on his hair bothers or hurts him, he makes no sound. He simply holds her.

Malroth is completely still for several minutes as she sobs, occasionally whispering in Crea's ear that she's okay. His stillness anchors her, bringing her weary ship into port and letting the waves lose their luster. Crea hiccups a few times as she slumps, letting him lean back to look at her puffy half-closed eyes and blotchy face. 

"Crea?" he whispers.

She can't look up. "I had a dream," she croaks. "On the boat. To Skelkatraz."

Malroth's eyes darken. "We're past that now. Skelkatraz has been liberated."

Crea shivers and nods, the memory of water so close to the edge of her mind that she doesn't really believe his words. "It was three days," she whispers hoarsely. "Three days that they kept me almost naked in front of you and in front of Brownbeard and you didn't even _ understand—" _

"Crea—"

"And you always tried to hold me to keep me warm because of course they didn't take  _ your _ clothes and I was so  _ ashamed—" _

"Crea!" Malroth shouts, only loud enough to keep her from blubbering on. "Listen to me. Stop this. It was just a dream. It can't hurt you."

She sobs again, shivering as she tries to pull her knees to her chest to hide her body from the recesses of her mind, from her memories… but with him sitting on her legs, she can't hide. The ocean stretches out in front of her, waiting to claim her. She can still hear the waves. She wonders if she will ever be free from the waves.

"Crea…"

She shakes her head as though trying to clear water from her ears. Unsuccessfully, at that. "Why?" she croaks. "I still don't understand…"

"They were perverted monsters, who cares?" Malroth grumbles. "They're all dead anyway. I should know, I killed them."

Crea trembles, tightening her grip on his hair again. He still does not complain. She wonders if he will ever understand. Or if the water will ever stop rising. She sobs. "Malroth…"

"What?" His expression softens again and he fills her chest like the moon reflecting on a clear pond. His thumbs are moving circles into Crea's tense shoulder blades, both soothing and working out the knots beneath her skin. Like water over a rock, the slow and relentless onslaught wears her down again. She hopes she will always relent to his flow of kindness. 

"Malroth." She shivers again, but it's weaker this time. Her muscles try to tell her she's cold, the memory of freezing water and sheets of rain lurking dangerously close to the surface, a sea monster simply waiting to strike again. Yet Malroth stays, her stubborn anchor. She clings with all her might to the driftwood in the distant surf, hoping with all hope she's being pushed to dry land again.

But her strength is waning. It always does.

"Malroth," she cries again, her voice a helpless whisper. "I'm drowning…"

He doesn't understand. She can tell by the look on his face that he may never understand. But Goddess, that will never keep him from trying. Leaning back to see her better—her puffy eyes and red face and exhaustion that settles over her body like a cloak of fog—Malroth cups a hand over her cheek, guiding her to look at him, forcing her to look at the lighthouse reflected in his frame. Crea wonders if she'd always forgotten to look at the light before, battered by the endless sea that refused to give her purchase on dry land.

"Then come up for air," he says softly, with such tenderness she wonders for a moment if he's the same man that he's always been. But then his eyes close and he leans forward and he kisses her, and suddenly Crea feels the promise of the surface on his lips, the air she chased from under the water hurtling towards her at rapid speeds until she feels the water break upon the shore of Malroth's lips.

She remembers how to breathe. 

The sweeping relief from his warmth chases out the ice from her bones, her lungs flooding with blessed air instead of water, and her eyes wanting to bulge at how close she felt to slipping under forever. Crea knows she ought to marvel at such a feat, but she's lost in his touch and everything else. Malroth is her guiding star, unchanging and unmoving in the night sky as she plots a course through the changing and ferocious seas, and still he is there even when the clouds cover him and he simply waits for the storm to break to simply be there, again. And thank the Goddess he is always there, Crea thinks. She would never have survived without his light and his air.

She cries. 

Malroth thumbs across her cheeks to wipe away the tears and she forces her eyes open as he pulls away to look over her with worry. Crea knows she should console him, convince him everything is fine, but with how close she was to drowning in her mind, she can only appreciate him in silence until her voice decides to cooperate. 

"Malroth," she whispers.

"Are you really okay?" he wonders aloud, his eyes flitting over every corner of her face.

It makes her feel seen in a way she hasn't felt since that lengthy boat ride to Skelkatraz, three days and three nights of his worrying gaze over every inch of her skin. At the time she was nervous of his intentions, not understanding he searched for anything wrong rather than for what he could take. She knows now for certain of his innocent mind, that he was searching for a map, a chart, anything to help him swim to save her, but ultimately not knowing how to read it even if it was laid out in front of him with a color code. Or even knowing how to swim, for that matter. Crea relaxes now in a way she couldn't back then. Malroth likewise knows now what he didn't back then. 

And he's a powerful swimmer, too.

"Yes," she whispers weakly, her hands releasing his hair again, her palms feeling raw from tugging the rope of her lifeline too stiffly. "I am now."

The lingering concern drifts around Malroth's expression as he continues to scrutinize her, searching for the safe course through the reef. Crea sighs in relief, thankful at the air in her lungs and the ebbing tide against the corners of her mind. 

"You've always kept me safe," she adds, gratitude coursing through her like a steady river. "I wouldn't have survived that place without you. You kept me afloat, Malroth. You still do. I…" She hesitates, knowing that even if she has her breath back it doesn't guarantee that the right words will come. Instead, Crea smiles shyly. "Thank you. For protecting me. For  _ always _ protecting me."

The tension fades around his eyes as Malroth smiles too, tangible relief in his shoulders and cheeks. "Of course," he utters softly, accompanied with a shy blush of his own, though he hardly moves his head to hide it. "I promised, didn't I?"

Crea nods, her hands settling on his sides as she keeps willing herself to breathe, the water still draining from her mind. Goosebumps rise as she feels him cup her face like he would water from a stream, and her eyes flutter like her heart as they go up to see his face. His beautiful, calm face. There's some kind of understanding in his red eyes that she's never seen before, and before she knows it she releases a sigh. 

"I love you," Crea whispers, the rough sea water retreating enough for the time being to allow the warm, calm waters of their love to take its place. "Thank you. For saving me."

Malroth smiles. His eyes glisten and she wants to bask in his light forever. "Of course. I love you. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't return the favor?"

Now Crea smiles, melting into his touch as he holds her. She wishes she could tell him properly, her eyes fluttering slightly as sleep resettles like a cloak on her back.

Malroth chuckles. "C'mon. Let's get you back in bed."

Crea nods, following his hands, his unwavering presence, her guiding star, her light, into his waiting arms and back to sleep.


End file.
